In the snow where do these sole footprints go?
Looking lonely in the lantern’s yellow glow
Who lit this light in such a night?
I follow them,
syncopated in time
Now they seem to
pace steadier, faster, with no reason or rhymeThe whiteness is cold, and at the same time charming
Its existence is beautiful, quiet and disarming
The footprints
move by the old wooden fence
My sense of aloneness
brings me a warmth and pleasanceThe footprints head towards old Carter’s well
So I march on for this mystery to quell
Snow under my
feet crunches and chimes
Bricks and roof
have toppled with timeI wonder to myself of a time distant past
When this well was alive and down the bucket was cast
The footprints stop here, at the well and trees
They do not continue on as far as I can see
Searching for more ‘round winter’s trees branches bare
That hide springtime’s hidden flora, fauna and flair
And now I wonder
how I was led
Down this path
in this peaceful steadThere is nobody to be seen, anywhere, no voice
I have no choice
But to move along, to go, afoot in the snow
Copyright
2012 Wandering Satellite Publishing
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